Sweet Catastrophe
by ExploitingReality
Summary: Set during New Moon, A/U. Bella and Alice attempt to save Edward from his suicide attempt. Will they succeed? Tragedy invades Bella and the Cullens’ lives. Jasper x Bella. Rated M for language and adult themes in later chapters.
1. Did My Heart Love Til Now

**_A/N: Hey guys. Thanks to everyone that read my Bella x Jasper one shot, "To Dream". I was pretty overwhelmed by all of the positive feedback, and I just wanted to say thank you to everyone that favorited my story and me. Here's a little something I've been working on. It's a bit more angsty than anything I've really attempted, and I hope the emotion I'm trying to convey comes across correctly. Also, I don't want any crap for what happens to Edward. :P It's very important to the story. This will be Bella x Jasper eventually. Please give it a read and let me know what you think. Thanks! _**

**Twilight, Bella and the gang are the intellectual properties of their respective copywriters. I don't own anything but the unrecognizable parts of plot. No money is made. Etc, etc.**

_Sweet Catastrophe_

_Chapter 1_

_Did My Heart Love Til Now_

_I stared mutely out the window, watching the scenery race by. Quite literally. Foreign buildings, sky and trees had begun to blur together, forming a single, colorful entity. That was alright. I wouldn't have seen any of it even if we were driving anywhere near the speed limit. I glanced unnecessarily at the car's speedometer. We weren't. We careened wildly around a corner, and I uttered a terrified gasp as the door of a parked car just ahead of us flew open and a man stepped out. Oh my God! We were going to hit him. I cringed back into my seat, but Alice maneuvered us as easily around the road block as if it hadn't existed. I could hear the young man's angry shouts only momentarily as we sped further into the city._

_A pang of guilt struck me. Guilt that I hadn't warned Alice to slow down, or cautioned her not to hit the man. Guilt that the only concern that plagued me at the thought of running him over, possibly killing him, was whether or not our stolen car would come out of the mess unscathed. Would we have been able to continue on our desperate course if the small automobile had taken the man out? I briefly envisioned a large, human sized dent in the hood and a cracked windshield before shaking myself free of the grizzly images. It didn't matter. I had a vampire chauffer, a vampire chauffer who could see the future. Despite the speed with which we were tearing down these unknown streets, I had probably never been safer._

"_Alright there, Bella?" The soft, melodious voice cut through the thick tension of the small space. I nodded jerkily, not trusting my voice to verbalize the lie. Alice saw right through me, as she usually did and reached over to touch my knee lightly with her icy hand, her lips drawn back in a tight, forced smile. "It'll be alright."_

_I looked at her, my expression one of desperate supplication. Had she seen something? I warned myself against the fierce hope that suddenly gripped me. Her second sight was only accurate so long as the subject continued on a set course. It could change at any moment. The reminder did little to calm my sudden buoyancy. "Are you certain?" My tone was heavy with a single implied question. Had she seen a vision of the future guaranteeing our success? _

_Her small, stone hand withdrew and she clutched the steering wheel convulsively, her normally cheerful countenance drawn tight with agonized uncertainty. A succinct shake of her head was all the answer I needed. The visions were changing, as she'd been telling me they had been since our plane landed. My stomach lurched, sinking straight into my toes, and I raked my hand viciously through my already mussed hair. I returned to my sight seeing and troubled thoughts._

_Edward. _My_ Edward was somewhere in this city, taking the necessary steps to ensure the end of his life. Like some nightmarish Shakespearean tragedy come to life, my Romeo, believing me dead, was so tortured by the thought of a world without my presence that he couldn't imagine his continued existence in it. _

_The very idea caused me such pain that I felt as though I were being torn in two. I wrapped my arms protectively around myself, trying to hold it together. The helplessness, the anxiety were enough that I couldn't add any more emotion to the mix lest I overwhelm my dwindling sanity. The pain would have to wait. I was certain that it would consume me when I finally laid eyes upon my love._

_Did he truly think that I would end my life over his betrayal? I chuckled humorlessly. Alright, so I'd seriously considered it. And my reasons for backing down were far from noble. It wasn't in respect for my family, or the love that they harbored for me. No. Nor was it fear that I would burn in Hell for the sin. Nor for the pain I knew I would leave in those I left behind. Imagine every after school special you've ever seen on suicide, take the moral of the story, and not a single one would be the reason for staying my hand._

_I knew that so long as I lived and breathed, there was a chance I might see Edward again. God, I was pathetic. _

_I wanted to hate him for this thoroughly selfish, utterly hypocritical act. Hadn't he intentionally done almost this very thing to me? He left me. Allowed himself to become my reason for living and then cut himself free, leaving an impossible, gaping wound. He left me completely alone, bereft of the love that I had come to so wholly depend on. Left me broken beyond repair. Left me with nothing more than my own agonizing, torturous memories. His tousled auburn hair, those soft gold eyes, that crooked smile. I gasped softly as his beautiful face tore through the walls I'd erected around his memory and swam through my mind. Agony ripped through me so terrifically that I felt as though I might be sick all over the stolen car's dash._

_My heart slowed as I tucked the painful memories away. The thoughts were foolish, anyway. I couldn't hate Edward even if I'd wanted to. There wasn't a single, atrocious act in this world that he could commit that would turn me against him. Certainly he could, and had, upset and angered me. But when it came to Edward nothing was unforgivable. I needed him as surely as I needed the air that pushed through the tightness in my chest to enter my lungs. He was my everything. It didn't matter that he'd hurt me, that'd he taken the very world with him when he'd gone away. Saving him was all that mattered, now. _

_The irony of it struck me, terrified me. I was a human. A mortal. Weak, slow, clumsy even by human standards. How did I possibly stand any chance of swaying Edward's actions once they'd begun? His strength and speed were beyond comprehension. I could feel my pulse spike, blood pounding furiously through my veins as a single thought struck irrevocably home. If I failed in this, Edward would die. He would be _dead_. Gone. Forever._

_My brain shut down, completely ceased to function as I tried to envision my life without any possibility of Edward. I began to hyperventilate, my fingers fisting into the edge of my seat._

"_Bella?" Alice's voice held such concern that I knew I should say something, offer her some words of comfort, tell her that I was alright, but in that moment, I couldn't. I couldn't bring myself to voice such an immense untruth. I simply shook my head, wide-eyed with my terror. "Bella!" It was a clear command, and I glanced at the ethereally beautiful young woman who was, for all intents and purposes, Edward's little sister. "Bella, I need you to pull yourself together, we're nearly there."_

_Oh, God. Please. Please, just give me this. I will never ask for anything again. Please, please, please._

"_Bella!" Her pleading tone mirrored my thoughts and I tried to knit the frayed edges of my nerves back together. "Please, you have to keep a level head. I need you. Edward needs you."_

_It was the first time, in a long time, that someone had actually said his name aloud within the vicinity of my hearing and the shock of it sliced clean through me. Edward. Edward needed me. He may not want me, but in this moment, he needed me. I nodded slowly, reigning in my wayward physiological responses. Breathe, Bella, you can do this._

"_We haven't much time. When we get there, do anything, anything you can think of to make him see you. His path is very clear, and unless we intervene he has no intention of turning back."_

_I nodded my understanding. "How swiftly will the Volturi act once he steps into the sun?" I was trying, futilely, to remove my overwhelming, debilitating emotion from the situation. If it were a plan, a logical, singular strategy, perhaps I would be able to function. _

_Alice shook her head slowly, staring at me as if I'd just said something extremely foolish. "Bella, if Edward sets so much as a fingertip into the sunlight, he will die. There is no time, no room for error. You must reach him before he takes a single step."_

_Try as I might to resist it, the fear washed over me in cold, unyielding waves. I could feel my fingers trembling as I knotted them in my lap. "Alice, Edward is…fast." An integral understatement. There was no way…no way…_

"_Bella, listen to me. You can do this. I know you can. I've seen it." I refused to remind her that she'd also seen Edward's death. And mine. And her own. "You must gain his attention before the clock strikes noon."_

_I could only nod, lost in a brief, silent motivational speech. _

_Come on, Bella, you can do this. This is to save Edward. Your Edward. Could you truly live with yourself if he were to die because you tripped over your own feet? If you don't believe in yourself, Edward doesn't stand a chance._

_I was jerked out of the inner monologue as I realized the car was slowing. Oh, Oh God, we're here. I have to…I can't, please. I couldn't make sense of the thoughts anymore. There was no room for coherency, there was only terrified anxiety._

_The clock tower struck the first chime of noon as we rolled to a stop._

"_BELLA! GO!"_

_My hands shook violently as I desperately scrambled for the door handle. I couldn't…Why the hell wasn't it opening?!_

"_Alice!" A single word had never sounded more like a plea._

_She was leaning over me, a flash of inhuman speed, and she had the door open and my seatbelt off before I could so much as blink._

_The second stroke of noon._

_I tripped my way out of the car, eyes watering at the sudden near-blinding sun. Where? Where was Edward?_

"_Straight ahead Bella, just run!"_

_Strike Three._

_The throng of people seemed impossibly thick as I lurched forward, sliding on the dew dampened grass. I pushed my way through, rudely shoving people aside. It didn't matter. What were manners when Edward was about to die?_

_A ringing toll sounded around the busy square and I shuddered. How many was that? Six, Seven?_

_God, please!_

_I tripped over someone's foot and flailed wildly to the ground, my palms stinging with the impact. A hand on my shoulder, helping me to my feet. I shrugged it off, sprinting onward. My legs ached as I demanded every ounce of speed I could get from them, my lungs burning with the effort. _

_The bell sounded for what I was sure was the tenth time._

_And then, he was there. The crowd thinned, parted, and he was revealed to me. My beloved, my immortal, my vampire. My Edward. My heart stopped in my chest, and I skidded to a halt, desperately drinking him in. How could one person, one being, be so utterly beautiful? From his tousled auburn locks to his dazzling pale countenance, right down to his shoes, he was exactly as I remembered him. Completely perfect. _

_Did my heart love til now? Foreswear its sight, for I never saw true beauty til this night. How apropos._

_Nothing, nothing had ever looked so good to me as Edward did now. He was alive. Alive…Oh god. I needed to get to him!_

_The eleventh chime resonated throughout and I leapt forward. It felt as though I were moving through mud, as though the bottoms of my shoes were coated in glue. Why couldn't I move faster? I sobbed, cursing my weakness._

_My lips parted on a scream that was his name as I neared the shadowed alcove in which he stood. I summoned all of the strength in my belabored lungs and screamed his name, pouring all of my anger, fear, and anxiety into that single word. _

_The clock struck noon. _

_His unmoving form, statuesque, suddenly came to life. No, no, no! No! I screamed his name again, and again, the word lost in the din of the crowd. I was almost there, just a few more steps. _

_But he moved. Stepped forward as he turned, his eyes flashing with recognition, just as the sun came to slant faintly across his face. He stumbled back almost immediately. He saw me, oh thank God, he saw me. As he stared at me, disbelief shining in his brilliant golden gaze, the hooded figures descended. It was too late._

_Pain crossed his beautiful features, and I could only stare, horrified by the events that unfolded. He went still, utterly still, and his gaze was torn from mine. I followed his eyes to the silver blade that was protruding from his chest. Oh. Oh God, please, no. Anything. I'll do anything! Please! I took a single step back, my hands rising to cover my mouth, holding in the screams of anguish that threatened to tear me apart. _

_Edward's gaze rose, meeting mine, and a small smile crossed his lips. He reached a hand out to me, and I could almost feel the cold, smooth texture of his fingertips on my face. It was too much. I slumped to my knees, the uncontrollable sobs tearing their way out of my chest as Edward's lifeless form fell to the ground. _

_

* * *

_

"Is there anything I can get for you, Miss?"

I jerked free of the prison of my thoughts, glancing up at the source of the intrusive voice.

"I'm sorry, what?" My voice was hoarse, and I cleared my throat lightly. I could only imagine how I must look to this woman. My red-rimmed, empty eyes, and my rumpled clothing. I didn't care. I didn't care about anything, anymore.

"Do you need anything? A drink, perhaps, or a pillow?"

I didn't understand. My entire world had shattered into a million irretrievable pieces and she wanted to know if I wanted a fucking pillow? I had an overwhelming urge to scream at her. Unleash the furious, all-consuming grief that was eating at me. I stared at her blankly for several seconds, before giving her a curt shake of my head. It wasn't her fault, after all. The only blame to be placed was on me, and me alone.

I cringed, huddling in on myself as the guilt began to gnaw away at me. It took turns with agony, breaking me a little at a time. My old friend numbness was conspicuously absent.

It was my fault. Edward was…Edward was dead and it was entirely my fault. I had stopped. God, why had I stopped? If I could have been just a little faster, a little stronger. I pressed my lips together, fighting tears. Once they'd begun, I knew they wouldn't cease. I just had to make it a few more hours, I just had to get home, inform the Cullens, and then I could collapse into my bed and never move again.

Edward's way out had never looked more appealing.

* * *

They were waiting for me, of course. All five of them. Their golden eyes an unbearable reminder of my Edward as they pointedly watched the exit behind me, fully expecting to see him just behind. But I had failed. My lungs began to burn as I tried to breathe past the sudden lump in my throat. How was I supposed to tell them that I had let Edward die? How could I possibly tell Esme, Edward's beautiful, loving mother that I had allowed them to kill her son? I couldn't do this.

I turned, suddenly, intending to flee, unable to bear their accusations, suffer their anger at my short-comings. A cold hand on my shoulder stopped me short, spun me to face them. Jasper.

"Bella, what…?" His eyes searched my face and he gasped, jerking his hand away as though he'd been burned. The tears began. There was no more holding them at bay. I was drowning. Drowning in a grief that would no longer be denied. I pressed my clenched fists to my eyes, trembling with the effort to stay upright beneath the weight of my guilt.

I could feel them, their cool, unwavering presences as they surrounded me. Someone drew me close, held me tightly enough to hurt. Esme's soft voice murmured,

"Oh Bella, I'm so sorry."

She was sorry? I had killed her son and she was sorry? Hysterical laughter bubbled from my lips. "I killed him."

Rosalie gasped, and the arms around me tightened to a painful degree. I winced but didn't withdraw. Perhaps Esme would kill me, accidentally, and I would be free of this.

Carlisle's steady hands pulled me from his wife's embrace. His face was drawn with his grief, and just when I thought there was nothing left of my heart to be broken, I was proven wrong. That expression dug deep gouges into the already mortally wounded organ, and I broke down.

"I saw him, Carlisle. I couldn't…I wasn't fast enough! The Volturi. If I just could have reached him. He saw me. Oh, God, he looked right at me, but it was too late." He seemed to understand the sobbing, broken English well enough, and he drew me closer, wrapping his arms around me.

"It's not your fault, Bella."

I choked on my scoff, fisting my hands in his shirt. "I'm weak, pathetic. Any of you would've…"

Big hands spun me, and I was faced with Emmett, the normally playful light in his eyes extinguished. The realization that I had done that struck me. I had ruined this family. "That's enough of that, little sister. None of us would've been able to save Edward, not out in the sun. He made his choice."

Didn't he understand?! I had the chance to save him, and I hadn't been able to!

A wave of unrest washed over me, the emotion intruding on my grief. I was positive that it was not mine. There was only one person… I turned slowly, already knowing who would be standing there. Dread shuddered up my spine.

Jasper was staring at me oddly, his head tipped to one side, his face dangerously expressionless.

"Bella? Where's Alice?"


	2. Untimely Frost Upon the Sweetest Flower

**A/N: Here's Chapter 2. Thanks to everyone that favorited me, and if you have any ideas or comments, please don't hesitate to drop me a line. :)**

_Sweet Catastrophe_

_Chapter 2_

_Untimely Frost Upon the Sweetest Flower_

_A wave of unrest washed over me, the emotion intruding on my grief. I was positive that it was not mine. There was only one person… I turned slowly, already knowing who would be standing there. Dread shuddered up my spine._

_Jasper was staring at me oddly, his head tipped to one side, his face dangerously expressionless._

"_Bella? Where's Alice?"_

* * *

Alice. The name shook something loose inside of me, an illusive recollection that flitted through the torrential riptide of Edward's memory, resisting capture. I was certain that something had happened to my vampire friend, something that had caused her inability to get on the plane and return home with me. But, what? I struggled to regain control of the mess that was my mind, pressing my fingertips to my temples. Between my own all-consuming grief and the fear radiating from Jasper it was all I could do to remain coherent. How could he possibly expect me to think right now? Didn't he know that Edward was dead? I shook my head helplessly, staring into the fathomless depths of Jasper's gaze. "I…I don't know," I breathed.

Apparently this was an unacceptable answer by Jasper's standards. He was upon me in two swift strides, big marble hands curling around my upper arms with bruising force. His face was only inches from my own, and I flinched with every word he growled at me. "Think, Bella. Think very carefully about the answers you're giving me." The underlying threat was implicit. "_Where. Is. Alice?_"

I tried. I really did. For Jasper, and all of the Cullens' sakes. Closing my eyes, I began to navigate the murky, unstable mine field my brain had become. I sifted through the closest memories, knowing that any of them could be the trigger that sent me tumbling right over the edge. There was Edward, smiling adorably as he helped me up from yet another of my uncoordinated spills. And here, Edward's cool fingertips, brushing the warmth of my cheek lovingly. The brilliant gold of Edward's eyes as he watched me like I was the only thing that existed for him on this Earth. Edward. Obsessive, devastating thoughts of my first and only love. Here, there was no Alice. There was no Jasper, or Emmett or Rosalie. There was no room for anyone but my Edward. The memories were all I had left of him.

It was ironic. When Edward had been alive…I struggled with the overwhelming finality of that thought, swallowing convulsively. When Edward had been alive, my human life had seemed incredibly short, the minutes, the hours, they were but a blink in comparison to his immortality. We could have had forever. Why, oh why hadn't he just turned me? Now I had nothing but what seemed an eternity of hellish years ahead of me. Alone.

"Bella? Bella!" Jasper's low, urgent voice slowly brought me back to myself, and I blinked against the bright overhead illumination. What did he want? Couldn't he see that I had grieving to attend to? I stared at him through blurry, red-rimmed eyes.

"What?" I demanded hoarsely.

If his expression was any indication, he was struggling to retain control of himself, and failing miserably. I could feel the waves of frustrated anger radiating from him. He took a deep, extraneous breath, probably trying to calm himself.

"Bella, please, concentrate. I know you're hurting, and I'm sorry for that, but I need you to answer my question to the best of your ability. Where is Alice?"

Oh. That. I shrugged lightly against his iron grip. "I…I'm sorry, Jasper. I just don't know. I can't remember."

"Dammit, Bella!" He exploded, shaking me fiercely. I uttered some pathetic cross between a mewl and a cry as my head snapped back on my shoulders, brilliantly colored stars exploding behind my eyelids.

"Jasper, enough." Carlisle's sharp command seemed far away, muted by the ringing in my ears. The hands that held me withdrew abruptly, and I stumbled, unaware that I'd become reliant on their strength to hold me upright.

"Are you alright, Bella?" Esme caught me before I hit the ground, her sweet voice piercing the veil of disorientation that seemed to have settled over me.

I nodded, overwhelmed by my sudden need to be away from them. I just wanted to go home. I wanted Charlie and my room and my bed and my mother's overbearing, oppressively concerned E-mail. Some normalcy for a while. Here, with them, there was too much to remind me of Edward. Their graceful gestures, the silken intonations that caressed every word they spoke, their ridiculous beauty. I choked on a sob. Edward. He was gone, and he was never coming back. Never.

My heart ached with the loss, as though every bit of it that Edward had ever touched was slowly hardening, becoming impenetrable stone. I fisted my hands helplessly against the pain, my nails digging sharply into my palms. "Please, please take me home," I gasped. I hated that they were seeing this, seeing this especially vulnerable human break down, unable to so much as cry themselves. Emmett was frowning, Rosalie simply looked uncomfortable by my emotional outburst.

"Carlisle?" Esme murmured, concern lacing her own saddened tone.

"Of course, Bella, we'll get you home right away."

Strong arms lifted me and I clung to the cool granite shoulders, burying my face against the faintly sweet smelling neck that only served as a painful reminder that I would never get to be this close to Edward again. For now, I allowed my mind to offer me the comforting illusion, despite the tears that traced ceaselessly down my cheeks.

Gentle hands placed me into the back seat of Carlisle's car, buckling my seat belt.

I stared listlessly out the window as we journeyed back to Forks. It was raining. I'm not sure why it came as a surprise to me, why I'd expected anything else. Perhaps I'd figured the world to have changed, to have been altered in the wake of such profound desolation. Certainly there must be some physical manifestation, something to denote that the most important person to exist on this Earth was gone.

But it was all the same. The gentle pattering of the raindrops on the hood of the car, the laughing people going about their daily lives. I at once hated and envied them. If I'd never met Edward…No. I couldn't think it. To imagine my life without ever having had him in it. That was possibly even more painful than to have lost him twice now. I had my memories, and while they were but a pale shadow of what he'd actually been to me, they would have to suffice.

With the warm heat blowing from the car's vents, and the low purr of the engine my eyelids had begun to grow heavy. How long had it been since I'd slept? I was terrified of what awaited me in my dreams, but I was unable to resist the beckoning siren song of slumber. I glanced hazily to the passenger that was sitting so silently beside me, startled to find Jasper. He was watching me intensely. Why wasn't he badgering me about Alice? I didn't question him, simply watched him as unwaveringly as he did me.

* * *

"_Edward! No!" My broken sob was nothing but a whisper in the din of the crowd around me. I stumbled back from the horrific scene playing out before me. This couldn't be real. I had to be dreaming. Wake up, Bella, my mind screamed._

_But I knew, through the layers of my denial, that this was real. Not even my most terrifying nightmare could conjure the hooded, wraith-like creatures that knelt over the body of my beloved, their pale, shadowed faces contorted with repulsive smiles. _

_I wanted to go to him. To push the loathsome creatures away and hold him. But what good would it do me? I had to get away. I had to tell Alice that I'd failed. My heart plummeted straight into my toes as I took another faltering step back. I tripped, falling back onto my hands, my already abused palms stinging with the further abuse. I staggered to my feet, turning swiftly, but not so swiftly that I didn't catch brief movement from the corner of my eye. _

_There was someone else…someone else there. I turned back, only semi-conscious of the crowd of bodies around me, jostling me this way and that, a few 'excuse me's heard every now and then._

_I held my breath, my heart stuttering wildly as I tried to see who had just leapt agilely out of the looming tree that shadowed the small area where the Volturi had descended on Edward. _

"_NO!" I screeched, unaware that I'd even intended to say the word aloud until it burst from my lips, recognition of the person making me feel faint with the shock of it._

_Alice, oh my God, what was she doing?! I had to help her! Her tiny figure was positioned between Edward's body and the Volturi guards, her lips pulled back, teeth bared in a snarl. What could she possibly be thinking? I shouted her name desperately, taking a single, lurching step forward, my hand clutched to my chest. _

_It all happened so quickly that I almost couldn't be certain of what I was seeing. The flash of a sword, and Alice's slender body came to rest next to her brothers, unmoving. Her head…I gasped, shaking my head in mute horror. No. No, no, no. Her head, detached from the rest of her body, rolled to a stop beneath the tree, her gaze wide and unseeing. I closed my eyes, clapping a hand fiercely over my mouth. This was not happening! No! Please!_

_And then, my cruel imagination grated a bit more of my sanity away. Alice blinked._

_I sobbed softly and did the only thing I could think of. I ran. I ran away from the surreal, sickening tableau. It was a test in futility, really, the images indelibly burned into my eyes, into my brain. _

_I collapsed to my knees in the grass near our stolen car, panting, shaking violently. It was only a moment before I leaned forward on my hands, and unable to contain it any longer, I began to retch, pouring the minimal contents of my stomach onto the ground. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, pushing myself away from the puddle of sick, and running to the car. I had to let the Cullens know. I had to…What? What was I supposed to do? Everything in my mind had jumbled into a kaleidoscope of grotesque imagery. _

_I fell into the passengers seat, clutching at my stomach. I was going to break apart, at any moment. Shatter into a million pieces that would never be reassembled. My love, my best friend, both dead. And I'd done nothing to stop it. _

_Oh, Alice, why? With Edward already dead, why had she thrown herself into the fight like that? It was such a waste. All of that over a body? I groaned and pounded my fist against the dashboard._

_It was then that I noticed it. Two small squares of paper sitting neatly on the dash, one with my name scrawled neatly in Alice's perfect cursive, the other addressed to Jasper. She'd known…_

_I nearly tore the paper in my haste to open my letter, pouring over the words, desperate for some sign, for something that said that this was a plan, that somehow, decapitated or not, we would all come out of this fine. _

"_Bella,_

_If you're reading this, it means that we've failed in our task. Please don't blame yourself, though I doubt I'll be able to stop you. We did everything that we could, but Edward was quite determined. You know my brother, stubborn as can be. Unfortunately, it also means that I was unable to escape. Well, you know how I am. We Cullens sure have a knack for obstinacy. You've somehow made it away from the Volturi. You must go back to Forks immediately and tell our family what's happened. There are plenty of funds in the glove compartment of the dash, as well as everything you'll need for the return flight. Please do not be too upset. I love you, you've been like a sister to me, and I'll see you again one day. The other note is for Jasper, please be sure that he gets it. Now go!_

_Alice"_

_I sobbed brokenly, clutching the paper to my chest as though it were the sprightly girl. I allowed myself a few moments, before mechanically reaching into the niche in the dashboard and collecting the items Alice had left for me._

_I abandoned the flashy car, running toward the main road, hoping to find a pay phone or a taxi. _

_I clutched Jasper's note tightly in my clenched fist._

_He would be so broken…_

* * *

I jolted awake, my eyes flying wide as I gasped.

I didn't want to be awake. Waking meant I would have to tell Jasper that I finally had the answer he was so desperately seeking. I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, wishing there were some third alternative between consciousness and slumber. I closed my eyes tightly, deciding that of the two, the latter was preferable. The very idea of breaking the news to Jasper was unbearable.

A cool hand touched my arm, Jasper's voice murmuring worriedly, "Bella, are you alright?" I was shivering, I realized, trembling from head to toe, my teeth chattering.

I shook my head wildly, shrugging him off. He seemed bewildered by my erratic behavior. I could only imagine what I looked like, shaking, eyes closed, my head whipping back and forth. A mirthless chuckle escaped me. I was about to inform someone who I'd come to consider a brother that his wife was dead and I was worried about how I looked?

My laughter only seemed to concern him more, and leaned forward, murmuring into the driver's seat, "Carlisle, I think something's wrong with her."

He couldn't even begin to imagine how wrong things were about to get.

Taking a quick, steadying breath, I reached into the pocket of my jeans, felt the crumpled bit of paper there. My fingers were shaking as I slowly withdrew the scrap.

Carlisle was asking for my symptoms when I murmured his name. "Jasper?" My voice was scratchy and quiet, and I half hoped that he wouldn't hear me. Vampire hearing. No such luck.

He turned questioningly, his words dying on his lips as he saw the paper in my hand. I held it out to him tentatively.

He was staring at Alice's handwriting, and I knew immediately that he recognized it. He was looking between the letter and me, astonishment plain on his face.

"Where did this come from?" He demanded angrily.

I swallowed softly. "It…It was in my pocket. I…dreamt…I remembered."

"What? What did you remember?" He leaned forward eagerly. "Where is she?"

I pointed at the note with a trembling finger. "Read that, please." I couldn't just flat out tell him. I just couldn't.

He hesitantly unfolded the intricate little note. I watched him cautiously as he began to read, holding my breath.

I didn't have long to wait.

His pain hit me first, a dizzying wave of anguish so potent that I gasped with it. He tore the paper in his hands, ripping it into millions of tiny shreds, until there was nothing left but dust. I could only watch, horror-struck, as he tipped his head back, and roared. Shouted his rage and fury to the callous heavens. His sorrow filled the tiny space of the car, suffocating with its intensity.

I gripped the sides of my head, whimpering under the weight of his emotions, my vision blurring. It was with relief that I allowed the darkness to take me.

* * *

**A/N: Okay, I know that was rough, and I promise, I will redeem myself for killing off two of our favorite Cullens. Just trust me on this.**


	3. What's Done Cannot Be Undone

**A/N: Hey guys. It's been a while since this one's been updated, but here you go.**

**Let me know what you think! :)**

**~Ex**

* * *

Sweet Catastrophe

Chapter 3

What's Done Cannot Be Undone

The pain had returned.

I'd been expecting it, as I slowly drifted out of my medicine-induced slumber, but the intensity of it took me by surprise, as it always did, knocking the air from my lungs as surely as a blow. I gasped, allowing it to wash over me in steady waves, silently wishing that I could drown in the sorrow; wishing that the next time Carlisle stopped by with my sleeping pills, he'd leave a merciful few extra so that I wouldn't have to suffer this excruciating existence any longer.

But he was selfish, he and Charlie, and the rest of the Cullens. They cared nothing for the ragged, aching hole in my chest where my heart had once been. I'd foolishly thought, at the beginning, that the pain was a result of my heart hardening, growing strong and resistant to thoughts of..._him_, but I was wrong. When Edward had stepped into the sun, when his life had been cut so agonizingly short, the invisible threads he'd wound around my heart had torn the delicate organ straight out of me, leaving behind a festering wound that seemed to become more infected by the day.

They didn't care that the hurt had become a living, tangible thing. That it had unfurled from my chest in dark insidious tendrils and infected every part of me until I was barely able to function. Every breath was acrid, burning my lungs, every throb of my phantom heart harrowing, spreading the disease of my loss. My empty stomach complained of my mistreatment, aching dully... Every involuntary physiological action was an immutable reminder that I was alive... and he was not.

It was almost amusing now, to look back on when Edward had first left me; the catalyst to this never-ending nightmare.

At the time, I was sure that I could never feel worse; that numbing, empty ache that rendered every detail of my life without Edward blurry. The vibrant colors of the world around me, colors that seemed to have grow brighter with the knowledge of Edward's love, bled away, draining until there was nothing left but harsh shades of grey.

A crucial part of my very soul had been ripped away and hovered, unreachable on some distant horizon. I could sense it, out there somewhere.

But that was just it. It was _there_. There was still a chance, a tiny, minute chance, that some day I might find that piece and be able to put myself back together. There was never a question, despite his harsh words or the fact that he had abandoned me, that I would take him back should he even hint at wanting it. He was simply _my_ Edward. And always would be.

So, like a zombie, I mindlessly went through the motions, burying the pain and taking refuge in Jacob's company when I could. I ate, I went to school, I smiled as I told Charlie the lies he so badly needed to hear, all in the hopes that the 'someday' I dreamt of would become a reality.

Now, there was no someday. There were no foolish expectations. It was over. And in the end, Edward had been right. I wasn't good enough... I'd never been good enough...

Quiet voices disturbed my less than pleasant thoughts and I listlessly rolled onto my side, peering with half-hearted interest at the shadowy figures in the doorway. Charlie and Carlisle. My daily visitors.

For a while Charlie had allowed my classmates to visit me, hoping, misguidedly, that their flowers and teddy bears and murmured condolences would 'make me feel better'. As though my naïve, uncomprehending peers could help assuage the guilt-ridden ache that gnawed at me.

That foolish notion had ended quickly enough when, after two weeks of silently suffering through my classmates' unwitting commiserations, I'd snapped on Mike Newton so severely that he'd run out of our house near tears.

I closed my eyes, feigning sleep. Not because I wanted to eavesdrop, but simply because I couldn't stand the idea of having to interact with either of them.

Carlisle had the best of intentions, really, didn't he always? But when he looked at me with that kind smile, and those brilliant topaz eyes, different, yet achingly similar, it was too much. With every word he spoke in that faintly musical tone, he drove the spike of Edward's death a little deeper. I felt as though I would never be able to staunch the flood of painful memory so long as he insisted on making house calls.

And Charlie, with his helplessly concerned gaze, and the words of encouragement that were getting more feeble by the day, did a terrific job of making me feel bad for not feeling better. I wasn't sure what he was expecting, or what he wanted from me, but I knew that I wouldn't be able to provide him with the cheerful smile he so desperately begged for anytime soon.

"She's not getting better, Cullen," Charlie growled quietly, the raw frustration in his voice making me cringe. It seemed to be my year to disappoint people; pruning the Cullen family tree without their consent, driving my dad to despair, and killing my boyfriend and his sister...

The pain pulsed heavily, reminding me with cruel efficiency that the wound I'd sustained was not nearly healed enough for such caustic thoughts, and I clenched my fists in my sheets.

Carlisle sighed quietly. "It's only been three months, Charlie. You need to give her time."

I jumped involuntarily as a loud thud echoed throughout the room. I didn't need to look to know that Charlie had just hit something.

"_How much time, dammit_? She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep, she doesn't talk. She's wasting away, and nothing I say or do makes it any better. I can't just stand by and watch this, I mean, there's gotta be something you haven't tried, or--"

Carlisle's voice was weary, but held no edge of defensiveness. "I'm doing everything I can, Charlie. She refuses to see anyone else and won't take the medications I prescribe. She refuses therapy. I'm sorry, but there is a certain level of cooperation necessary, here. She has to _want _to get better. Until she does, there's only so much I can do..."

There was a moment of silence and I could feel the weight of both of their gazes. Finally Charlie sighed, muttering resignedly,

"That may be, but I'm her father, and if this keeps up... Well, I'm willing to do whatever's necessary to ensure her recovery, Cullen."

"Charlie, I don't think..."

"_Whatever's. Necessary_," Charlie replied, in a voice that brooked no argument.

As the quiet creaking of the stairs signaled his departure, I wanted to shout after him not to bother. There was nothing anyone could do.

Despite the sudden silence, I knew better than to think I was alone. I was willing to bet my life, though it held very little value these days, that Carlisle was still standing in the doorway, a knowing, pensive look on his face. I knew what was coming. He would try, as he did every day.

And he would fail. As he did every day.

"I know that you're awake, Bella," his melodic voice murmured into the dim hush of my room.

I opened my eyes to find him slowly approaching my bedside, regarding me as though I were a wounded animal that might attempt escape at any moment.

His fist hovered over my nightstand for several seconds, and I watched worriedly as he hesitated. I was tormented by the thought that one of these days he would simply refuse me the solace of the only prescription medication I was willing to take. Luckily, today didn't seem to be that day, and he reluctantly released two familiar blue pills next to the glass of water that permanently resided there.

"Thank you," I whispered hoarsely. I couldn't remember the last time I'd sounded like myself, the last time I didn't sound like I'd been crying or screaming for hours on end.

Carlisle nodded slowly as he sank into the worn kitchen chair Charlie had dragged up next to my bed. He would be sitting there, sometimes, when I awoke; always watching me with that same forlorn gaze. And when the nightmares got bad, so bad that I honestly feared for my sanity, Charlie would sit there stoically, promising me that everything would be okay.

Liar.

"How are you feeling, today?" Carlisle asked perfunctorily.

I never responded to the question. Because he already knew. It was worse. Always worse.

Instead, I closed my eyes, turning my face into my pillow and breathing deeply. I hadn't allowed Charlie to change my sheets. Perhaps it was a merciful deceit of my mind, some trick necessary to keep me from going crazy, but faint traces of Edward's scent still seemed to cling to the covers.

"When's the last time you've eaten?"

I was silent until Carlisle's cool, gentle hands grasped my chin, forcing me to look at him. Those eyes... My stomach clenched as I met them.

"Bella?"

I shrugged. "I don't remember."

He frowned at that. "Would you like me to have Charlie make you something?"

I dragged one of my pillows down, clutching it protectively to my chest.

"I'm not hungry."

He sighed, and I suspected he meant it to be too quite for my ears. Unfortunately for him, I was all too used to Edward's nearly inaudible sighs of frustration. "If you don't eat soon, I'm going to have set up an IV."

Did he expect me to object?

"Alright."

"Bella, please," he suddenly beseeched.

For the past eighty seven days, Carlisle had never once pushed, cajoled, or threatened me. He hadn't given any indication that my behavior was upsetting him; it was as though this was precisely what he'd expected. So when his tone took on that pleading note that Charlie's often did, it took me by such surprise that it broke through one of the many dams I'd erected to keep the pain from pouring out onto others.

I hadn't cried for three weeks.

But the barrier holding my tears at bay suddenly burst, and there they were.

The wrenching sobs seemed to come from deep within, clawing up from my stomach to choke their way out of my throat.

"What?! What are you asking me for, Carlisle?!" I cried. "What do you want from me?! I can't! Whatever it is, I _can't_ do it! Edward is dead, okay?! He's dead! He's _never_ coming back!" A horrible realization hit me, and my lungs constricted painfully, my words breathless when I uttered them. "Oh my God. I don't know how to live without him."

Strong hands grasped my shoulders, lifting me partially from the bed, so that I was sitting, Carlisle's fierce gaze burning into mine. He shook me, and I could only imagine how I must look, hanging listlessly from his grasp like a rag doll. "You _must_, Bella! Please, you have to try."

I shook my head, eyes burning with tears that should have long since been exhausted.

"I can't," I muttered wearily. "I'm tired, Carlisle. So very tired."

He understood immediately that I wasn't referring to a need for sleep. He understood that this life no longer held anything for me. There was no chance that I might catch a glimpse of Edward in passing ten years from now. And Alice would never drive up the Cullen's driveway, arms loaded with more shopping bags than any one girl had a right to.

There was _no hope_. And that was a very dangerous thing.

Carlisle hauled me off the bed completely, tucking me against his chest as though I were nothing more than a child.

"I'm sorry," he murmured into the tangled mess of my hair. I buried my face against his shoulder, inhaling the painfully familiar scent. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you; what I would do if I lost Esme, but please, Bella, you're not alone. We've all lost Edward. You don't have to do this by yourself. We're all here, if you need us. And you do. You need _someone_, you need to at least talk about what's happened, you need to cleanse the poison of this wound. If you don't at least try, I won't be able to stop him."

For the first time in three months something other than the image of Edward's face took control of my mind; an emotion other than pain rising to claim my attention.

I glanced up into Carlisle's wise, handsome face with a curious frown, the tears slowing as I sniffled. "You won't be able to stop who?" I questioned thickly, my throat still swollen with a lump that enlarged and deflated, but never seemed to entirely dissipate.

"Charlie," he murmured, his eyes moving over my face with concern. I wondered, again for the first time in a long time, what I must look like. Not that it mattered...

I briefly recalled Charlie's cryptic parting words. That he would do whatever it took to make sure I got better. I hadn't taken them seriously, but if Carlisle was concerned... "Charlie? What do you mean?"

Carlisle simply shook his head, standing and laying me gently back on my bed. His cool fingertips brushed a few stray locks away from my face.

"Just try, hm?"

He straightened, glancing at the blue pills, the one item in my worthless existence that I considered essential, with a frown.

"And Bella? The sooner you can live without those, the better off you are."

Panic washed over me in swift waves, debilitating me with terrifying speed.

"I...I can't..." I panted, the anxiety causing every muscle in my body to tense, as though in preparation for flight. The nearly dreamless slumber that those pills incited was my one escape; the only time of day when I didn't feel as though I was being crushed beneath the weight of my grief.

Carlisle laid a soothing hand on my shoulder, his smile understanding.

"I know. Just... Think about it."

And he left me with something other than my own shortcomings to ponder.

* * *

The look on Charlie's face when I joined him at the breakfast table, two days later, was truly priceless. I only wished that the never abating, bone-deep ache would ease, just for a moment, so that I could enjoy it.

For the better part of the last forty eight hours, I'd been absorbed in attempting to decipher Carlisle's mysterious words. I'd come up with nothing solid, but my best guess what that Charlie was planning to do something that neither Carlisle nor myself would approve of; a suggestion that'd born dozens of possible scenarios ranging from bringing grief counselors into the house and forcing them on me, to trying to send me to live with my mother and Phil. Again.

And this morning, as the sun had made a murky, half-hearted appearance, I'd lain on my side and stared at the end table where my little blue friends were perched. Friends whose company I'd declined the night before. I hadn't slept, but it was the first time in a long time, that I'd felt as though control of my life wasn't slipping through my hands faster than as if I'd been trying to hold water.

I'd thought that locking myself in my room and staying away from everyone would shield them from the incredible anguish that threatened to swallow me whole. But the more I'd thought about it, the more I realized that my withdrawal, my refusal to let anyone in, rather than protecting them, only served to hurt them more.

Perhaps I'd known that all along, subconsciously; wanted to inflict even a fraction of what I felt upon them. I only hoped that I hadn't become so cruel in my bitterness.

Still, I must have unintentionally pushed Charlie to some sort of breaking point.

And I intended to do what I could to remedy that.

If I was going to continue with this farce of a life, I was going to have to at least attempt to live.

Charlie scrambled to his feet, sending milk and a good deal of bran flakes spilling onto the tabletop. I felt the corners of my lips twitch, though I couldn't execute the smile fully.

"Mornin', dad," I uttered huskily, my throat still not fully recovered from all of the strain I'd put on it recently.

"Mornin', Bells." His gaze was nervous as he quickly righted his bowl, raking a hand through his hair. "Can I... Get you something to eat?"

I fidgeted with the hem of my t-shirt, swallowing back my immediate refusal. I had to make the effort. Like Carlisle said, I had to try. So I nodded slowly, suggesting wryly, "Just promise that you won't try anything too difficult, huh? I'm supposed to be getting better, not worse."

The relief on his face at my half-hearted attempt of a joke was painful to witness. He suddenly laughed, and in a rare show of emotion, strode over to my chair and pulled me into a tight hug. I returned it gratefully; allowing the love my father exuded to wash over me, knitting some of my painfully raw edges back together.

When he pulled away, his eyes were bright and glassy, and self-hatred flared briefly within me, an emotion I'd become well acquainted with over the past several months. Why had I assumed that my suffering would affect no one else if I just shut them out?

Charlie's calloused hand mussed my hair as he headed over to the stove, cracking a couple of eggs into a frying pan. Comfortable silence settled over the kitchen as he cooked and I actually found the role reversal somewhat amusing.

When he set the plate before me, my stomach lurched a little. After not having eaten in so long, the smell of food made me slightly nauseous. I forced myself to pick up my fork anyway.

Charlie kissed the top of my head, murmuring gruffly, "If you need anything, you call me at the station, alright?"

I nodded mutely, forcing a painfully strained smile as I looked up at him. Trying. I had to keep trying.

Would it always be this difficult?

Charlie grabbed his gun belt, tossing his hat carelessly on his head and headed toward the door. He paused on the threshold, glancing back at me as though he planned to say something, before shaking his head and walking out.

I was grateful that he avoided the small talk.

I pushed my eggs around my plate, forcing myself to choke down a few bites, before my stomach began to lurch warningly and I tossed the remainder, scrubbing the plate clean.

And then, I stood there.

I stood there, in the kitchen, with its cheerful yellow cabinetry, sunlight streaming murkily through windows that hadn't been washed in too long, and I realized that I was... lost.

Utterly, and entirely lost.

What was I supposed to do with myself? I hadn't gone to school in months, and not only was I hopelessly behind in my classes, but there was no way I'd be able to suffer an entire day of sidelong sympathetic glances and feeble apologies.

Carlisle had concocted a simple tale of loss and sorrow to explain away Alice and Edward's sudden disappearance and my subsequent withdrawal.

A drunk driver had swerved over the median, hitting the car in which Alice, Edward and I were driving head-on. Alice and Edward were instantly killed, while I, asleep in the back seat, escaped with hardly a scratch. There'd been a funeral I'd been unable to bring myself to attend, and the local paper ran obituaries that lamented the loss of two young, vibrant, gifted people. With typical small-town mentality Forks had banded together, its housewives making scores of casseroles to send to Esme; the high school holding a memorial service to mourn the loss of two students that it'd never truly known or loved as I had.

And no one knew. No one knew the terrible truth about what had happened. Not even the Cullens could fully understand what I had been forced to witness...

I gasped softly, clutching at the counter as it returned with a vengeance; the consuming, crushing sorrow. My legs buckled beneath its weight, and I wrapped my arms around myself as my knees hit the floor. I gagged as jagged shards of pain suddenly pierced my head, light bursting behind my eyes. I tried to hang onto my breakfast, but it was a lost cause, and I spilled the minimal contents of my stomach onto the dusty floorboards.

I couldn't do this. I wasn't strong enough. I couldn't even think his name, or imagine his face, without turning into a trembling ball of worthless, for God's sake. Why had I thought that I could walk down here today and it would be different?

Anger surged within me, fury at myself boiling over, mingling with the constant self-hatred instead of burning it away. Together, they created a roiling, festering combination that threatened to pull me under.

I screamed suddenly, pounding my fist against the cabinet behind me with a resounding crack.

Why wasn't I getting any better, dammit?! Why wasn't the miracle cure-all 'time' healing this huge fucking wound that gaped in my chest?! It had been three months, and he wasn't coming back. I'd _seen_ him die! If that wasn't fucking closure, then I couldn't imagine what was!

I screamed again, though it was choked this time by the sobs that clogged my throat.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. I shook my head helplessly as the never-ending tears burned their familiar paths down my cheeks. It was never supposed to end like this. We were supposed to live happily ever after; we were supposed to be together for eternity.

Horror trickled icily through my veins as I realized that not all of my animosity was reserved strictly for me; that along the way it had grown into such an enormous thing that it reached for Edward, and even Carlisle.

Why hadn't Carlisle stopped Edward from going to the Volturi? Why hadn't Edward just changed me when I'd asked him to? Why hadn't Alice seen this and prevented it? Why hadn't I been faster, stronger…better?

Gasping, sobs wracking my body, I tipped my head back against the cabinet, glaring through our ceiling, through the sunny Forks sky, and up into the Heavens.

"Why?!" I cried desperately. "Why did you do this to me?! How could you take him from me?! Why?! Why…why…?"

"Bella?"

I brought my head down sharply, scrubbing my hands over my eyes as the deep voice met my ears. I wasn't delusional enough to think that my furious demands to God, or whoever made the decisions 'upstairs', were being answered. I still had enough common sense to be concerned with how someone had gotten into the locked house, and more importantly, who they were and what they wanted.

But my worry was unfounded. It was only Emmett's hulking frame that stood in the doorway separating the kitchen from the short hallway to the living room. His expression was one of acute discomfort.

I scowled, sniffling repeatedly as I attempted to staunch the flow of tears.

"What do you want?" I demanded.

Now that I wasn't a screaming, hysterical, snotty mess, Emmett looked a bit more at ease. He stepped into the room, his eyes assessing as they moved from my swollen face to the mess I'd made on the floor and then back again.

And there it was. The pity. Always the pity. I despised it.

"Uh, Carlisle asked me to stop by. He wasn't able to get away from the hospital today and he wanted to know how you're doing."

I sneered, angry with him for daring to witness my very personal breakdown, and even more angry with myself for indulging in it. "Well, now you've seen. I'm a fucking wreck. Run along to report back in," I defensively snapped, waving my hand dismissively toward the door.

If I was hoping to send him running with the harsh words, I was sadly mistaken. My eyes slid to his feet in surprise as he stepped closer yet.

"Don't be a bitch, Bella, it doesn't suit you."

I looked upward so quickly that I actually felt dizzy for a moment. My mouth shot open to reply archly, but I was silenced as I met Emmett's gaze head-on.

His blood-red gaze...

I jumped to my feet and had closed the distance between us before I even realized what I'd intended to do; before I'd fully processed the ramifications of this latest development, and what they may mean for my safety.

"Emmett, what the hell?! Your eyes!" I reached up, as though to touch the faintly bruised looking skin beneath said eyes, before drawing back.

He chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Yeah, I fucked up. Rosie reamed me when she found out."

I was shocked by his blasé attitude. "How can you be so...? I mean... When...? Who did you...?" What was the etiquette for asking a vampire about his most recent human snack?

"No one around here. It was up near the border, a couple of weeks back. I hadn't eaten in a couple of days, which was stupid on my part, but some hiker was crushed by a boulder. He was going to die anyway... There was blood everywhere and I just lost it."

"And you're not... You don't feel bad about it?"

Again he shrugged his massive shoulders. "It's how I'm made, Bells. Can't beat myself up too bad over the occasional mistake, now can I?"

He watched me pointedly as he said this, and I immediately realized why Carlisle had sent Emmett. Emmett with his crimson eyes and easy smile. Carlisle was trying to send some sort of message... About not blaming myself for what had happened.

I shook my head, feeling a tired smile fighting its way to my lips.

"Yeah, I guess not," I agreed.

Emmett stepped forward, and I was on the receiving end of my second hug of the day. I closed my eyes, resting my forehead against the solid wall of his chest, my arms hanging loosely at my sides as I didn't return the embrace, but didn't fight it either. And despite the painfully reminiscent pale, marble arms, I was able to accept the comfort that Emmett offered, if only for a few minutes. I pulled away as the sweet vampire scent of him, buried underneath a layer of cologne, but there nonetheless, caused my eyes to prickle with tears.

I wiped at my eyes yet again.

"So, I suppose you've been laying low then?" I turned away from him, reaching for the damp washcloth I'd used to wash my plate earlier and kneeling to clean up the small puddle of egg-water that'd come out of my stomach.

"Yeah, can't exactly run around with eyes like this. Rose got me some contacts but they're itchy, and the venom makes 'em dissolve so quickly it's almost not even worth it. Jasper said they'd get back to normal soon enough."

I froze, in the process of wringing out the washcloth in the sink.

Jasper.

His had been the last voice I'd heard before the darkness had claimed me, darkness that'd held me hostage for nearly three days. And though the other Cullens had made attempts to visit, to assure me that things were not my fault, I had not seen Jasper since.... that day.

I turned slowly, wringing my damp hands as I struggled to make my voice casual. "How... How is Jasper?" It came out strained and slightly higher than normal.

Emmett shook his head, answering carefully. "Not good. Not as bad as you, I don't think, but he doesn't really talk about it much, so I'm not sure."

I closed my eyes as guilt crashed over me, reminding me not just of the lives that I'd been too inept to save, but those that I'd ruined in the process as well.

"But he's still with you guys?" I whispered.

"Yeah. For now. I don't suppose he has anyplace else to go."

"Yeah," I murmured.

Silence that neither of us knew how to fill descended, before Emmett smiled. With those crimson eyes, the expression was actually a little scary, and I could understand how, despite their beauty, most self-preserving humans might be quite wary of them.

"Anyway, along with being Carlisle's errand boy for life, after this little mistake," he gestured to his eyes, which rolled upward, "Esme wanted me to stop by and invite you over. She misses you, you know."

My head began to shake before the request was finished. The very idea of setting foot in the Cullen residence causing me to hyperventilate. Memories flooded my mind, unbidden and unwanted, reminding me of every action, every smile, every _thing_ Edward and I had ever done in that house. There would be so much... _Too_ much to remind me of him.

"I can't, Emmett. I just... Please don't ask me to--," I gasped, feeling more dizzy by the second.

Emmett interrupted me, taking me firmly by the shoulders. "Bella, stop. You can't keep doing this to yourself; you can't keep living like this! I know that you're in pain, but do you think this is what Edward would have wanted for you? All he ever wanted was for you to be happy, to live your life. He would still want that."

I closed my stinging eyes, the truth of Emmett's words penetrating the thick shell of apathy I'd built up over the past three months.

"We miss you, Bells. Me and Carlisle, Esme. Hell, even Rosie's been asking about you."

I peered up at him blurrily, arching a disbelieving brow.

"It's true!" he defended. "She blames herself, you know. She's worried about you."

I sighed softly and Emmett seemed to sense my weakness.

"Just for a little bit? Esme would love the company. She's redecorated the entire place."

I tried to imagine the house, the same, yet different, but all I could think of was the living room, with a focal point that may just break me should I see it.

"The piano?" I questioned softly, pain spreading in my chest as Edward's lullaby dug its way out of the depths of my mind to play quietly in my head.

Emmett rubbed my arms lightly, perhaps picking up on the sudden ache.

"Gone," he reassured me.

Though it hurt me to know that they had mourned the loss of Edward so greatly that they'd been forced to purge the house of memories of him, I couldn't help the tiny sliver of relief... I wasn't alone in this. Carlisle had been right. Again.

"Alright," I finally agreed. "Just give me a second to change."

As I slipped into a comfortable pair of jeans and my favorite hoody, I couldn't help but be thankful for Emmett and his crimson eyes. For Carlisle and his wisdom.

I finally wanted this.

I wanted to be able to embrace Edward's memory without having it crush me. I wanted to live the life that he always wanted for me. I had no illusions that this would be easy, but things worth doing rarely were.

I may not know how to live without him, but I was willing to learn.


End file.
